Back Again
by The-World-Hates-Me72
Summary: I couldn't stand being there anymore. I had no one. So, I left. But, I came back to London two years later. When I got back, something happened... something crazy. Sherlock came back. Now, I have to deal with him, and make sure he doesn't find out who I really am. If he does, I don't know how he'll react. (Sequel to Scars)
1. Chapter 1

After I 'died' I moved into a small town and had a baby boy six months later. I named him Matthew Hamish Holmes. Of course I don't say his last name when I introduced him, because it would become too obvious.

I dyed my hair blonde and changed my name. Nicole Price. That made my son Matthew Hamish Price. I also mastered an American accent. When Matthew turned one, I moved back to London, and moved into 221C. John now lives with his girlfriend. Mrs. Hudson didn't even know.

Poor Mrs. Hudson. She doesn't know it's me. No one lives in 221 Baker Street except for the two of us. She misses John and Sherlock and I dearly. She told me all about us, when she came up for morning tea. I even went to Sherlock and I's graves with her once a week.

I got a job at a pub, and when I was at work, Mrs. Hudson gladly took care of Matthew. I actually met a woman there named Mary, and it turns out that she was John's girlfriend. We eventually got to be great best friends. I re-met John a few times, and he has a mustache.

I don't like it. And Neither did Mary. She's told me.

Mary's visited my place every once and awhile, Mrs. Hudson was never there when she visited, though, for some reason. Sometimes she was out, other times she was just in her flat.

Another year passed and Matthew was almost two. He's smart for a two year old, but I guess that's because his father was a genius. He looks a lot like Sherlock, too. He has his beautiful colorful eyes and his hair, except it was straight. Mine was wavy and Sherlock's was curly. Matthew can say complete sentences with ease and can get up and down the stairs without using the railing. And he can read well.

The next day I was working in the pub when John came up to me.

"Hey, John. The usual?" I asked.

"Yes, please. Thank you." John answered before sighing.

I placed the beer in front of him, "What's wrong?"

"I just came from Sherlock's grave." He replied.

"Did you see the news this morning? They cleared his name." I said.

"Yes, I just wish they would have done it sooner, not two years after his death." John responded.

"What else? I can tell something else is bothering you." I asked.

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box and showed me a ring, "Tonight I'm going to ask Mary to marry me."

I smiled and jumped a bit, "Oh my gosh, John! She's going to be so happy!"

"You think?"

"Yes! She loves you, John. She's told me many times." I replied. "How are you going to ask her?"

"I'm taking her out to dinner tonight... then I'm just going to ask her." He answered.

"Mary will say yes, John. I'm positive."

"I'm going to talk to Mrs. Hudson now about it." John said.

"Really? I'm sure she'll be happy for you. She misses you very much." I told him.

After a small talk with John, he finished his drink and left for 221B Baker street. Another few hours and my shift was over and I went back to 221C. I grabbed Matthew from Mrs. Hudson's and we talked about what John said. Of course, Mrs. Hudson still thought John was gay.

After talking with her, I left to get Matthew some dinner. I made him some mac n' cheese and we watched the Lion King. I then put him to bed and asked Mrs. Hudson to keep an eye on him while I left to Mary's. I helped her get dressed for her special dinner tonight, and she kept asking why I was so excited. After I left her house I went back to my flat and checked on Matthew before going into my room.

While looking for some sleeping clothes and an outfit for the next day, I found something that made me tear up.

Sherlock's scarf.

It was the one I got him for Christmas. It was almost exactly like his old one, except I had his initials sewn into this scarf. He wrapped it around my neck just before he jumped. I placed it on my desk before getting dressed and falling asleep.

I was woken up from my mobile phone ringing and it was Mary.

"You'll never guess what happened..."

And it was nothing I expected. John didn't propose to her, no, no, no. Because someone interrupted. Who? Sherlock bloody Holmes! I quickly ended the phone call, not believing what she said. Sherlock was dead. I saw him jump from the roof, and John saw him fall. He's dead.

But, if he really is alive... he'll be coming back here. And soon. I stood up and shoved the scarf away in a drawer and put on my robe.

I heard Mrs. Hudson's radio playing and I knew she was doing the dishes. She always liked listening to the radio while cleaning. I heard her scream and I ran upstairs,

"Mrs. Hudson! What-"

I stopped when I got upstairs and saw a man in a dark coat with dark and curly hair with amazing eyes.

"Right. Probably should've warned you." I said sheepishly.

Sherlock stared at me with the deduction look, "How did you know I was alive?"

"I'm friends with Mary and John. She called earlier, telling me about you. I was a bit shocked. Everyone said you were dead." I answered.

"Who are you?"

"Nicole Price... Hi." I replied. "I live in 221C."

"Mmm. American." He studied me for a second and I thought that he figured out who I was.

Then he turned to Mrs. Hudson, "Is Amelia sleeping?"

My eyes widened. He didn't know who I was. Mrs. Hudson turned away with tears in her eyes and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

"It's okay, Mrs. Hudson. I'll tell him. You go get a cup of tea." I told her before grabbing Sherlock's arm and he looked down at me with confusion, "Come on, I'll make you a drink and tell you what happened."

Sherlock let me bring him up the stairs, and I tried my hardest not to yell, scream, or cry. I had him sit down on his chair while I made tea.

"Are you going to tell me about Amelia or what? Nobody will tell me. I asked John and my brother, but they changed the subject." Sherlock said.

"That's because things became different after you 'died'. At least, that's what they told me. John became distant, moved out within a few months with Mary. Amelia couldn't take it anymore." I replied as the water boiled and I sat down in John's chair.

"What do you mean 'couldn't take it anymore'?"

"She's dead, Sherlock. Committed suicide in your room." I answered.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he froze, not speaking. I sat there for a moment, staring at him, before the kettle screamed and I stood up to pour the tea.

I put some sugar and cream in before returning to the living room and I saw tears in Sherlock's eyes as I set the cup next to him, it nearly broke my heart.

"How?"

"I read the papers. It was some sort of pill. The same pills from that case you worked... the, uh, Study in Pink?" I replied.

"She told me she threw them away." He muttered.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I was told you two were close." I said

"Yes, we were." Sherlock replied, and took a small drink of his tea, "How did you know how I take it?"

"Just a guess, really." I smiled.

The door opened and I looked over and saw Matthew with his blanket and his thumb in his mouth.

"You're supposed to be asleep." I told him before picking him up.

"Who's this?" Matthew asked, looking at Sherlock.

"Neighbor. Just came up to have a chat." I turned to look at Sherlock, "It was nice to meet you, Sherlock."

I put Matthew back to bed and got ready myself before falling asleep. The next morning I remembered that when I was going through Sherlock's cupboards, there wasn't any food. I told Mrs. Hudson that I was going out for about an hour and went to buy food. I bought the stuff that I usually did when I lived with Sherlock and came back and Matthew followed me up the stairs, carrying some bags with him. The light ones, of course.

"Don't be smart." I heard Mycroft's voice.

"That takes me back. 'Don't be smart, Sherlock, I'm the smart one'." Sherlock said in a high voice.

"I am the smart one." Mycroft replied.

"I used to think I was an idiot."

"Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing to go on, until we met other children." Mycroft said.

"Oh, yes, that was a mistake." Sherlock replied.

"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?" Mycroft asked.

"Probably something about trying to make friends." Sherlock answered.

"Oh, yes. 'Friends'. Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now." Mycroft replied and I stepped inside with Matthew.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked and the two men looked at me.

"Your kitchen's empty. So, I bought you food. Don't worry, Mrs. Hudson told me what you like. Come on, Matthew." I looked down at my son and we went into the kitchen.

Sherlock and Mycroft continued talking while Matthew and I put away the food. When I was done I picked up Matthew and went into the living room and saw Mrs. Hudson.

"I don't believe we met." Mycroft said, holding out a hand, "Mycroft Holmes."

I shook it, "Nicole Price."

"And who's this?" Mycroft asked, looking at Matthew.

"My name's Matthew!" My son exclaimed.

"Hmmm." Mycroft showed one of his tight smiles, "How old is he?"

"Almost two." I answered.

"Ah, so he's very intelligent." Mycroft commented.

I smiled and looked down at Matthew, "Yeah, he knows." I looked at Mrs. Hudson, "Can you take him?"

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Hudson answered and took Matthew from my arms.

"Thank you." I called out as she left.


	2. Chapter 2

I left a few minutes later when they started deducing a client's hat and I finished putting the food away, not surprised to see fingers in the fridge. Matthew was in his room in my flat and I started getting ready for work. I changed into dark pants and a tight black top with the pub's name on it. After putting on my converse I grabbed my keys and went to Mrs. Hudson's door. After telling her I was leaving, she told me she would watch Matthew and I then left for work.

It was too early for people to be drinking at a pub, so all I had to do at the moment was dust off tables and set up menus.

I started to think about Sherlock. I mean, he was back. Really back. He broke my heart... and I broke his. He had tears in his eyes when I told him about me committing suicide. I wanted to feel angry at him, I wanted to feel good about breaking his heart. But I can't. I feel probably as broken as he is.

A few hours later I had my lunch break and met up with Mary. After our break, we both went back to work. Many hours later I was done and I went home. I saw John outside the flat.

"John?" I asked and he looked at me.

"Oh, hello Nicole. I was just, um," He cleared his throat before a person came up behind him,

"John!"

"Nicole!"

I felt something pierce my skin and I saw someone jab a needle into John's neck and everything went fuzzy, then dark.

I woke with a start and looked around and saw John, who was gasping. I tried to speak, but it felt like there was cotton in my mouth. A few seconds later my eyes started to droop again and everything was black.

When I opened my eyes again, I heard children cheering and the smell of smoke filled my nose. Where are we? A hand grabbed mine I looked beside me and John looked at me with worried eyes. I looked above me and saw wood. We're in a bonfire, aren't we? Are we going to burn alive? I won't be able to see Matthew, Sherlock, Mary, or Mrs. Hudson again. I can't just leave my son alone.

I tried to open my mouth to yell out, to let someone know that John and I were in here, but nothing came out.

I heard a man say that the wood was too damp and he was going to get someone to help him light the fire. That gave us a few more seconds.

"Help!" I heard John say.

At least he was able to speak. A few moments later liquid spilt on us and it smelled like gasoline. Oh, no. I felt the blazing heat and I knew we weren't gonna make it. I gripped John's hand and waited for the painful death we were gonna have.

"Help!" John yelled louder and I then heard screams. I heard my name and John's. Sherlock and Mary. They were here.

"Help!" I was finally able to yell.

I saw the fire wood around us being pushed away and a pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me out before grabbing John.

"Nicole? Nicole?" I heard Sherlock ask.

"Bout time you came and saved us. We were just about to be barbecued." I smiled up at him.

I heard Mary laugh and she helped me as Sherlock turned to John.

"You have one smart child, Miss Price." Mary smiled. "He told us you were supposed to be home from work but you weren't."

"He gets it from his dad." I replied, looking at Sherlock and John.

The next few days I took off from work and stayed home and relaxed with Matthew. I didn't have to cook at all, Mrs. Hudson made us food. Bless her. I think she missed taking care of someone like when Sherlock was around.

I opened the door with Matthew in my arms because we were just at the park and saw an older couple coming down the stairs.

"Hello." I greeted, "Are you Sherlock's clients?"

"Oh, no, dear. We're his parents." Sherlock's mom answered.

"Oh, really! That's exciting!" I exclaimed.

"Do you live here?" She asked.

"Yes, I do. I'm Nicole. Moved here from America." I answered.

"Oh, that's nice. We're off, dear, but can you make sure Sherlock phones us?" She asked.

"Of course. I'll also make sure he has his morning tea and food." I smiled.

"Thank you!" She kissed my cheek and left with her husband.

"I just met Sherlock's parents." I mumbled before I brought Matthew back to our flat.


	3. Chapter 3

"I prefer my doctors clean-shaven." I heard Sherlock say as I walked in.

"That's not a sentence you hear everyday." I commented.

"Hello, Nicole." John greeted.

"Hi, John." I replied.

"I knocked on your flat but you weren't there." John said.

"Matthew and I were at the park." I said as I sat in Sherlock's chair, "You parents seemed very nice, Sherlock."

"You talked to them?" Sherlock asked.

I nodded, "They wanted me to make sure you phoned."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, "How are you feeling?" He asked me.

"Fine. A bit smoked, but fine." I smiled.

"Right." Sherlock replied, staring at me.

"Last night, who did that?" John asked. "And why did they target Nicole and I?"

"I don't know." Sherlock answered.

"Is it someone trying to get you through us?" I asked.

"Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?" John questioned.

"I don't know. I can't see the pattern. It's too nebulous." Sherlock replied. "Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That's what's strange."

"Give his life?" I questioned.

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London, that's all we know." Sherlock said before facing the wall with maps and pictures on it, "These are my rats."

"Rats?" John questioned.

"My markers, agents, lowlifes. People who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. If one of them starts acting suspicious, we know something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally but the sixth..." Sherlock continued.

"I know him, don't I?" John asked.

I looked at the picture of a man standing in front of the Big Ben wearing a suit, "Lord Moran, Peer of the Realm. Minister for Overseas Development. Pillar of the Establishment."

"Yes."

"He's been working for North Korea since 1996." Sherlock said.

"What?" I asked.

"He's the big rat, rat number one. He's just done something very suspicious indeed." Sherlock grabbed his laptop and pulled up security footage and showed us. Moran went into a carriage, alone, and never came out.

"Yeah, that's odd." John commented.

"There's nowhere he could have got off?" I asked.

"Not according to the maps." Sherlock answered, "There's something, something, something I'm missing. Something staring me in the face."

"Sherlock?" I asked as I replayed the video.

Sherlock's phone went off and he reached into his pocket to pull it out, "Any idea who they are, this underground network?" John asked. "Intelligence must have a list of the most obvious ones."

"Our rat's just came out of his den." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock?" I asked again.

"Al Qaeda? The IRA have been getting restless again, maybe they're going to make..." John began.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant!"

"What are you on about?" John asked.

"Mycroft's intelligence is not nebulous at all, it's specific, incredibly specific." Sherlock said.

"What do you mean?" John questioned.

"It's not an underground network, John, it's an Underground network!" Sherlock answered.

"Right. What?" John asked.

I groaned and replayed the video, "Seven carriages leave Westminster and only six carriages arrive at St. James' Park."

Sherlock and John looked at the screen over my shoulders.

"But that's impossible." John commented.

"Moran didn't disappear. The entire Tube compartment did. The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage." Sherlock said.

"Detached it where, though?" I asked. "You said there was nothing between those stations."

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth. That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere." Sherlock replied.

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?" John asked,

"It vanishes between St. James' Park and Westminster. Lord Moran vanishes. You and Nicole are kidnapped and nearly burnt to death at a fireworks party... What's the date? Today's date?"

"Hmm? November... My God!" John exclaimed.

"Lord Moran, he's a Peer or the Realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism bill. But he won't be there, not tonight." Sherlock said. "Not the 5th of November."

"Remember, remember." I whispered.

"Gunpowder, treason, and plot." Sherlock finished.

We gathered many map and started looking through them, trying to find out where the carriage would be. I went downstairs to feed Matthew and give him to Mrs. Hudson before going back upstairs to help.

"St. Margaret Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street..." Sherlock spoke, looking down at a map.

"Hang on, hang on, Sumatra Road." A guy said from the computer screen, "You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes. There is something, I knew it rang a bell! Yes. There was a station down there."

"Well, why isn't it on the maps?" John asked.

"Because it was closed before it ever opened." The man answered.

"What?" I questioned.

"They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it got all tied up in legal disputes so they never built the station on the surface." The man showed us a picture.

"It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster." Sherlock said.

"So what's down there, a bomb?" John asked.

Sherlock left and John and I quickly got our coats before following after him. We walked the few blocks and down to the Westminster Station. We got out our Tube cards and went through the doors,

"So, it's a bomb, then? The Tube carriage is carrying a bomb?" John asked.

"Must be." Sherlock.

"Right." John took off one of his gloves and took out his phone.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm calling the police." John answered.

"What? No!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Sherlock, this isn't a game, they need to evacuate Parliament." John replied.

"They'll get in the way, they always do. This is cleaner, more efficient." Sherlock said as he searched inside his coat and pulled out a tire iron and opened the gate that was next to us.

"And illegal." I commented.

"A bit." Sherlock replied.

He opened the gate and let us inside before he closed it behind him. Somehow, they both had flashlights on them and were able to see. I didn't have one, so it was harder for me. We went down a ladder and I slipped and Sherlock caught me before I hit the ground.

"Thanks." I whispered.

We eventually made it to the station, but we didn't see a carriage.

"I don't understand." Sherlock said.

"Well, that's a first." John replied.

"There's nowhere else it could be." Sherlock then put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes.

He then gasped and opened his eyes before he began running.

"What?" John asked as Sherlock jumped onto the tracks.

"Hang on. Sherlock?" I asked.

"What?"

"Aren't the rails live?" I questioned.

"Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails." Sherlock replied.

"Of course, yeah, avoid the rails." John muttered before we both jumped down.

We walked for about two minutes before we came across the missing carriage, "Oh, look at that."

Sherlock stopped and looked up and we did the same, there were chargers on the walls that lead up to the Parliament.

"Demolition chargers." John said.

We continued to the carriage and looked around it before entering. We went in slowly and carefully looked around.

"It's empty. There's nothing." John spoke up.

"Isn't there?" Sherlock questioned.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock lifted up a cushion from a seat and looked at us,

"This is the bomb."

"What?" John asked.

He lifted it up further and we saw the wires and explosives,

"It's not carrying explosives, the whole compartment is the bomb." Sherlock said and the three of us went around lifting all of the cushions to see the exact same thing underneath each one.

I walked down the aisle and the floor underneath me moved. I looked down and stepped on it again, there was something underneath it. I kneeled down and lifted it with my fingers. It was a cylinder and tubes came out of it. I looked up at Sherlock and he stared down at it.

"We need bomb disposal." John said.

"There may not be time for that now." Sherlock replied.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Well, think of something." I told him.

"Why do you think I know what to do?" Sherlock questioned.

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes, you're as clever as it gets." I answered.

"It doesn't mean I know how to diffuse a giant bomb." He replied before looking at John, "What about you?"

"I wasn't in bomb disposal, I'm a bloody doctor!"

"And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!" Sherlock replied.

"Can't we rip the timer off or something?" John asked.

"That would set it off."

"You see? You know things!" John exclaimed.

The lights in the compartment turned on and the timer started counting down.

"My god! Why didn't you call the police?"

"Can you just..." Sherlock started.

"Why do you never call the police?!" John interrupted.

"Hey, yelling at him won't help with anything!" I replied.

"So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police!" He yelled.

Sherlock turned to face us, "Go. John, Nicole, go now!"

"No." I replied.

"You have a child at home. Don't leave him as an orphan." Sherlock said.

"There's no point, is there, because there's not enough time to get away and if we don't do this, other people will die!" John exclaimed. "Mind palace!"

"Hmm?" Sherlock asked.

"Use your mind palace!" John ordered.

"How will that help?" Sherlock asked.

"You've salted away every fact under the sun!" John replied.

"Oh, what, and you think I've just got 'how to diffuse a bomb' tucked away in there?!"

I ignored the argument and got down onto my knees and look carefully at the bomb. It was down to one minute and 50 seconds. I moving my hands around it, I found a little switch on the side. I flicked it, and the timer stopped.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said to John and I looked at him in confusion.

Did none of them notice that I did it? That I stopped the bomb?

"What?"

"I can't... I can't do it, John. I don't know how. Forgive me."

"What?" John asked again.

"Please, John, forgive me for all the hurt that I caused you." Sherlock repeated.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, this is a trick." John replied, "Another one of your bloody tricks."

"No." Sherlock said.

"You're just trying to make me say something nice." John replied.

I'm pretty sure that is what Sherlock's trying to do. Since he's right next to me and I'm pretty sure that he knows I turned it off.

"Not this time."

"It's just to make you look good even though you've behaved like..." John took a deep breath and turned away and had to grab the pole, "I wanted you not to be dead."

"Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for." Sherlock replied. "If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and Nicole would be with her son, and you'd still have a future with Mary."

"Yeah, I know."

I sat down on the floor and put my hands in my lap, waiting for the moment to be over.

"Look, I find it difficult, I find it difficult, this sort of stuff." John stated.

"I know." Sherlock replied.

"You were the best and the wisest man that I have ever known. Yes, of course I forgive you." John said.

Sherlock then started snickering. Okay, joke's over now. John opened his eyes and looked down at the bomb, whose timer was stuck between 1:28 and 1:29.

"You..."

"Oh, your face!" Sherlock laughed.

"Utter..."

"Your face!"

"You!"

"I totally had you." Sherlock smiled.

I always liked it when he smiled. Not those smirks he'd do when he figured something out. No, I like his real smiles.

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You..." John began.

"Oh, those things you said, such sweet things. I never knew you cared." Sherlock teased.

"You know, I will kill if you ever breathe a word about this." John threatened.

"Scout's honor."

"You knew!" John exclaimed, "You knew how to turn it off!"

"It wasn't me, John. It was Nicole." Sherlock replied.

"You knew?" John asked me.

I shook my head, "John, would I be working at a bar if I knew how to dismantle a bomb? There's an off switch."

"There's always an off switch." Sherlock said, "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an off switch."

"Why did you let me go through this?" John asked me.

"Looks like you two needed to talk. I wasn't going to interrupt." I answered.

There was the sound of a radio, and I stood up and looked out the window, and saw police men heading over to the carriage.

"And you did call the police?" John questioned.

"Of course I called the police." Sherlock replied.

"I'm definitely going to kill you."

"Oh, please, killing me was so two years ago." Sherlock joked.

* * *

I was invited to a small get together at Sherlock's flat, but I refused because of work. Mary took Matthew, though. Mary texted me near the end of my shift, saying that Sherlock offered to take care of Matthew until I got back and she let him. I didn't even know Sherlock knew how to take care of a child.

When I got home I went up to grab my child. The door was slightly open, so I decided to walk in. And when I did, I stopped in the doorway when I saw Matthew. He was sleeping. On Sherlock's chest.

"Hello." Sherlock greeted, closing the file he was reading.

"Hi." I replied, walking into the room further and over to the couch.

I picked up Matthew, not waking him up and his head rested on my shoulder, "Thanks for watching him."

"It was no big deal." Sherlock responded.

"Who's file are you reading?" I asked.

"Yours." He answered automatically and I stayed calm.

"Why?" I questioned.

"Mycroft expressed his concerns about you to me." Sherlock answered, standing up.

"Why would he be concerned about me? Does he think I'm a secret agent here from America to kill you or something?"

"Might as well, considering Nicole Price didn't exist until two years ago when she moved to Wokingham, England with her son Matthew Hamish Price." Sherlock said.

"I moved here after you died, Sherlock. Even I didn't know you were alive until you made a dramatic entrance and scared Mrs. Hudson." I replied.

"I'm not saying you're an agent, Ms. Price. I just know you came here for a reason. You ran away from something. And trust me when I say this, I will find out who you really are. And why you're here." Sherlock began to walk towards his bedroom, "Good night, Ms. Price."


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock hasn't been speaking to me since he found out Nicole Price didn't exist. He visits, just not to talk. And when he does talk to me, it's only to get information.

* * *

_"What was your first name?" He asked._

_"Why would I tell you?" I replied._

_"Oh, come on. Unless you're real first name was very unique, there would be thousands of people with the same name." Sherlock said._

_"You're right." I walked towards him, "My name was Amy."_

_"Amy?"_

_"Yep. Amy. Well, it could be my first name. Or it could be a nickname. Or a shortened name." I smirked at him. "Or I could be lying."_

* * *

_"Are you even American?"_

_"I could be." I responded as I cleaned my kitchen from Matthew's mess earlier._

_"You should at least give me some hints." He said._

_"Now, where would the fun be in that?" I smiled._

* * *

_"Blonde isn't your natural hair color." He mumbled from the doorway as I re-dyed my hair blonde._

_"Great deduction you did there, Sherlock." I replied._

_"What is your natural hair color?" Sherlock asked._

_"Red." I answered before walking past him._

* * *

_"Who is Matthew's father?"_

_"Why would I tell you?" I questioned._

_"Does he even know about Matthew?" Sherlock asked._

_I sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter, "He knows he exists, but he doesn't know Matthew's his."_

_"What? How does that make sense?"_

_"He left me before I even knew I was pregnant. And I left before I had Matthew, and he's seen him, but he thinks Matthew is someone else's." I tried to explain._

* * *

Today was now the day of the wedding. I was Mary's bride's maid, and Matthew was the ring bearer.

That morning I was woken up by the sound of Sherlock's violin. When I went to wake up Matthew, he jumped out of his bed and went up to Sherlock's flat. Over the past few weeks, he's been very fond of Sherlock.

I followed him upstairs and Sherlock was talking to Mrs. Hudson with Matthew in his lap.

"I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early? So sad."

"Mm. Anyway, you've got things to do." Sherlock said.

"No, not really. I've got plenty of time..."

"Biscuits!" Sherlock yelled.

"I really am going to have a word with your mother. " Mrs. Hudson said as she rushed by me.

"You can if you like. She understands very little." Sherlock replied.

"Morning, Mrs. Hudson."

"Morning, Nicole."

"You don't seem very excited about today." I commented when Sherlock slammed the door shut.

"There's nothing to be excited about." He replied.

"Mmhmm. Alright, Sherlock. Just go put your battle suit on." I pushed him towards his bedroom and I grabbed Matthew to get him dressed.

* * *

Once I got Matthew ready I got dressed into a pair of skinny jeans and a sweatshirt before going upstairs into Sherlock's flat again. When I got in there, I saw him struggling with his tie.

"Need help?" I asked before going up to him and tieing his tie.

"Are you wearing that to the wedding?" He questioned.

"No. I'm going over to Mary's and getting dressed there and helping her with her hair and stuff. There you go." I patted his chest before picking Matthew up, "See you later."

* * *

Once the wedding was over, John and Mary walked outside of the church with Sherlock and I behind them.

"Okay, hold it there, I want to get this shot of the newlyweds."

The other bridesmaids stood beside me and we got ready to throw the flower petals in the air. I let out a small laugh when I noticed Sherlock standing on the other side of Mary.

"Uh, just the bride and groom, please."

"Sherlock." I whispered at him.

"Oh, sorry."

Sherlock moved out of the way and the cameraman got his camera ready,

"Okay. Three, two, one."

On one, the two other bridesmaids and I threw the petals into the air

The man got pictures of the others, too. Matthew got a few with Mary and John and Sherlock. As I was talking to Mary, I noticed Sherlock talking to Janine. I shrugged it off before we went to the dinner hall.

That's when I noticed something off about Mary. She didn't like the wine, yet she was the one who chose it. She was hungry, a lot. She also has been puking for the last week and a half. Mary insisted that it was just the nerves from the wedding, but now I don't think so.

I've been through it before. I know the signs. Mary's pregnant.

I sat at the head table next to Sherlock and Matthew was on the other side of me, enjoying his dessert. A man tapped on his glass with a spoon and we all went silent,

"Pray silence for the best man."

Everyone cheered and Sherlock stood up,

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends. And, um... others. Uh... also..."

Is Sherlock Holmes nervous? That's not something you see everyday.

* * *

_I was sitting in the living room with Matthew, helping him with a puzzle when I heard a strange noise coming from Mrs. Hudson's flat. I quickly got up and went to check up on her and found John was about to do the same thing._

_"Mrs. Hudson?" We both questioned._

_"Oh, no, darling." Mrs. Hudson replied, laughing._

_Well, at least she's not dying._

_"You all right?" John asked. "I was going to see Sherlock and I thought you were... possible dying."_

_"I'm sorry." She laughed._

_"What's wrong?" I asked._

_"The telegrams." Mrs. Hudson answered._

_"Sorry, what?"_

_"Oh, sorry." Mrs. Hudson didn't stop laughing as she left the room._

* * *

"The telegrams." I whispered.

"Right, um..." Sherlock grabbed cards from the table in front of him, "First things first. Telegrams. Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams, I don't know why. Wedding tradition. Because we don't have enough of that already, apparently."

"To Mr and Mrs Watson. So sorry I'm unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Standford."

Oh, I miss Mike. I haven't seen him in a while.

"To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big... big squishy cuddles from Stella and Ted. Mary, lots of love... oh."

"Yeah?"

"Poppet." Sherlock continued and we laughed a bit, "Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from Cam. Wish your family could have seen this. Um... special day. Very special day." Sherlock read and flipped through the cards quickly, "Love. Love. Love. Love. Bit of a theme, you get the general gist. People are basically fond."

"John Watson." Sherlock motioned to John, "My friend, John Watson. John. When John first broached the subject of best man, I was confused. I confess at first I didn't realize he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and surprised. I explained to him that I had never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it. I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was, for me, as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he placed in me and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being moved by it. It later transpired that I'd said none of this out loud." Sherlock said and everyone laughed.

Well, except Matthew. And that's because he's only two so he doesn't quite understand what Sherlock said.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock then proceeded with his best man speech. Talking about cases he went on with John and insulted many people and talked about how much he didn't think love or weddings were rational. If... if Amelia was still alive, wouldn't he have wanted to marry her? He did say he loved her.

He made many people tear up during his speech, and I didn't think that was possible. But what came next wasn't so surprising at all. He began talking about the Bloody Guardsman case. A guard was stabbed in the abdomen, but there was no weapon and no suspects. And he talked about the Mayfly Man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding." We all grabbed out glasses and stood as the camera man came up to take pictures, "Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson. The two reasons why every single one of us is..."

Sherlock froze as the pictures were taken. And I know that look. It's the look he has when he's figured something out. He even dropped his glass.

"The Mayfly Man is here today." Sherlock stated as his glass hit the floor. "Oh, uh, sorry."

"Another glass, sir?" The waiter asked and Sherlock took another. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, raising glasses and standing up. Very good, thank you. And down again."

We all sat down and Matthew jumped from my lap and went under the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech. Get off early, leave them laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind but for now..." He jumped over the table and walked around, "Part two! Part two is more action-based. I'm going to walk around, shake things up a bit. Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding? Well, everyone. Weddings are great! Love a wedding."

"What's he doing?" Mary asked.

"Something's wrong." I answered.

"And John's great, too!" Sherlock walked back towards the table and he began spinning around, "I haven't said that enough, barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his... jumpers, and he can cook... does a thing, thing with peas... once. Might not be peas, might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice or somebody does... too many, too many, too many, too many!" Sherlock stopped spinning, "Sorry, too many jokes about John. Now, uh... Where was I? Ah, yes. Speech! Speech. Let's talk about... murder."

"Oh dear god." I mumbled and I drank my wine.

"Sorry, did I say murder? I meant marriage. But, you know, they're... quite similar procedures, when you think about it, the participants tend to know each other and it's over when one of them is dead. In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though."

"Janine, what about this one? Acceptably hot?" Sherlock questioned the other bridesmaid, standing behind a man, "More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new, uncomfortable underwear and hasn't bothered to pick his thread off the top of his jacket or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone. Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek, they're always tremendously grateful when you put the hours in. Jeff, the gents. The loo, now, please." Sherlock said to Greg.

"It's Greg."

"The loos, please." Sherlock repeated.

"Why?" Greg asked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's your turn." He answered.

"Yeah, actually, now you mention it..." Greg checked his phone and left.

"Sherlock, any chance of an end date for this speech? Gotta cut the cake." John asked.

"Oh, ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos." Sherlock said.

"What did he say? What does that mean?" Mary questioned.

The murderer is in this room. Someone's going to die.

"Battle stations, someone's going to die." John answered.

"What?"

I looked under the table for Matthew, but I didn't see him. I looked around but I couldn't find the two year old and Sherlock began slapping himself and walked towards the table.

"What do I do?" John asked.

"You've already done it. Don't solve the murder, save the life." Sherlock replied before turning back to the audience, "Sorry. Off-piste a bit, back now, phew! Let's play a game. Let's play murder."


	7. Chapter 7

"Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?" Sherlock questioned.

"I think you're a popular choice at the moment, dear." Mrs. Hudson answered.

"If someone could move Mrs. Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely." Sherlock replied as he looked around, "More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding? Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I have often planned the murder of friends and colleagues. Now, John, I'd poison. Sloppy eater, dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue. Lestrade's so easy to kill, it's a miracle no one's succumbed to the temptation. I've got a pair of keys to my brother's house, I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him... if the whim arose. So, once again, who could you only kill here? Clearly, it's a rare opportunity, so it's someone who doesn't get out much. Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advanced is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity." Sherlock began looking around at all the guests, "And since killing someone in public is difficult, killing them in private isn't an option. Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then."

I began thinking about it. The only person that could fit that description is... John's military commander.

"Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security... possibly someone under threat." Sherlock continued.

I quietly stood up and went over to John, "The only person in here who people would want to kill is your ex-military commander."

"Oh, a recluse? Small household staff. High turnover for additional security. Probably have signed confidentiality agreements. There's another question that remains, however, rather a big one, a huge one. How would you do it? How do you kill someone in public? There has to be a way." Sherlock asked as he came back up to the table. "This has been planned."

"Sherlock! Sherlock!" Everyone looked over at the table Greg, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson sat at and saw Matthew sticking his head out from underneath.

"What's your theory, Matthew?" Sherlock asked my child. "Get this right and there's a headless nun in it for you."

"What?" I questioned.

"The invisible man could do it." Matthew said.

"The who, the what, the when, the why, and the where?"

"The invisible man with the invisible knife, the one who tried to kill the guardsman." Matthew answered.

I watched as Sherlock closed his eyes and the ex-commander stood up and left the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude." Sherlock stated. "To the bride and groom!"

Everyone began to stand up and Sherlock turned to John, "Major Sholto's going to be murdered."

"I know, Nicole told me." John replied, standing up.

John and Sherlock left and Mary and I went to get Major Sholto's room number.

* * *

"How can you not remember which room? You remember everything!" We heard John exclaim as we rushed up the steps.

"I have to delete something!"

"207!" Mary and I said at the same time and the four of us went to the room.

Sherlock knocked on the door, "Major Sholto? Major Sholto!"

"If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready." Sholto said from the other side of the door.

"Major, let us in." John demanded.

"Kick the door down." Mary said.

"I really wouldn't. I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes." Sholto replied.

"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him." Sherlock stated.

"The invisible man with the invisible knife?"

"I don't know how he does it so I can't stop him and that means he'll do it again." Sherlock retorted.

"Solve it, then."

"I... I'm sorry?"

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes. Solve the case, on you go." Sholto said. "Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door."

"Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in, you're in danger!" John exclaimed.

"So are you, so long as you're here." Sholto responded, "Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage."

"Solve it." I told Sherlock.

"Sorry?"

"Solve it and he'll open the door, like he said." I replied.

"I couldn't solve it before, how can I solve it now?" He asked me.

"Because it matters now!" Mary answered.

"What are you talking about? What's she talking about? Get your wife under control." Sherlock told John.

"They're right." John said.

"Oh, you've changed."

"No, they are. Shut up. You are not a puzzle solver, you never have been. You're a drama queen. Now, there is a man in there about to die, the game is on, solve it!" John demanded.

Sherlock then had a distant look in his eyes, and moments later he gasped. He went over and kissed Mary on the forehead, "He's a drama queen, too."

"Yeah, I know." Mary replied.

"Major Sholto, no one's coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago." Sherlock said.

"What did you say?"

"Don't take off your belt." Sherlock ordered.

"My belt?" Sholto questioned.

"His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him, but it was through his belt." Sherlock informed us, "Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it."

"The belt would bind the flesh together when it was tight." John said.

"Exactly."

"And when you took it off..."

"Delayed action stabbing. All the time in the world to create an alibi." Sherlock said, "Major Sholto!"

"So... I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate." Sholto commented.

"He solved the case, Major, you're supposed to open the door now." I said. "A deal is a deal."

"I'm not even supposed to have this anymore. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform, I suppose, given the circumstances, I don't have to. When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue." Sholto continued.

"Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it right now!" John yelled when we heard a clinking sound, "I will kick this door down."

"Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think." Sholto said.

"Yes, I think we are." Sherlock replied.

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?" Sholto asked.

"Of course there is."

"And one should embrace it when it comes. Like a soldier."

"Of course one should but not at John's wedding!" Sherlock exclaimed. "We wouldn't do that, would we, you and me? We would never do that to John Watson."

"I'm going to break it down." John stated and he began taking off his coat.

"Wait, wait, you won't have to." Mary replied and the door opened.

"I believe I am in need of medical attention."

"I believe I'm your doctor." John responded.


	8. Chapter 8

After watching Sherlock play the violin and flirting with Janine, I left Matthew in the care of Mrs. Hudson before going outside to get some air.

"It's chilly tonight, isn't it?" I heard a voice say behind me and my eyes widened.

No. It can't be.

"The cold doesn't bother me." I replied

"That doesn't surprise me." The voice responded, "You know, I like your red hair better."

I turned to face the man, "But that would give me away. Just like you are now, Moriarty."

He smirked, "Miss me?"

"Not really."

"Mmm." He walked around me, "You've certainly have been busy while I've been away."

"You've been watching me?" I asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" He whispered into my ear, "You don't bore me."

"You need to leave, Jim." I stated.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll get Sherlock." I answered.

"And he'll believe you? The girl with a secret identity? He doesn't trust you, remember?" He smirked.

And he was right. Sherlock doesn't trust me.

"What do you want?" I questioned.

"Nothing, really. I'm just here to torture you." Moriarty replied, looking at his watch, "Aaaannnndddd, times up! See you around, darling. But remember, darling, don't tell Sherlock."

"And why not?"

"Cause I will kill that precious son of yours."

He began to walk away, "Wait!" And he stopped.

"Just answer me this. How did you survive?"

"Oh, honey, nothing can kill me. Not even a bullet to the head." He smirked before leaving, "Wipe those tears away before Sherlock sees."

I sat down in the grass, my dress flowed out around me. I began wiping my tears.

I thought the war was over. I thought he was dead.

"Momma!" I looked up and saw Matthew running towards me with Sherlock behind him.

"Hey baby." I smiled, bringing him into my arms.

I stroked his brown locks before looking into Sherlock's eyes, "Leaving so soon?"

"I have better things to do with my time." He replied.

"No, you don't." I responded instantly.

"Yes, well, why are you out here all alone?"

"I needed some air." I answered.

"You were crying. Why?"

"Please, Sherlock, I'm begging you. Don't do this." I said, my accent slipping.

"What did you say?" He asked.

I was terrified. Moriarty is back and he threatened to kill my son. And now, Sherlock is closer to figuring out my identity.

I began crying once again and I stood up.

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, baby." I replied, my American accent gone completely, "I need to go."

"Let me walk you-" Sherlock began, reaching for my arm.

"Don't!" I took a step back, "Just... don't."

He took another step forward and grabbed my arm, "What. Happened?"

I yanked my arm away, "You didn't finish the game."

I picked up Matthew and began walking towards the main building for my room. I quickly got Matthew ready for bed and put him down. I then changed into my night clothes and washed off my makeup. I looked in the mirror and stared at my reflection. My eyes were watery and puffy. My face was blotchy from the cold. I let out a sigh before walking back into the room. My phone dinged and I looked at my message from an unknown number.

_'Good girl'_

-JM


	9. Chapter 9

I avoided Sherlock for a month, never going upstairs to his flat. I bought ginger hair dye and a blonde wig, dying my hair back to its normal color and putting a wig on top of it.

I came home from work one night with a letter taped to my fridge. I quickly grabbed it before running to Matthew's room to check on him.

"Matthew?! I screamed, stopping in the doorway.

He was sleeping peacefully in his crib. I let out a sigh of relief before walking back into the living room and opening the envelope.

_You, Amelia, are invited to the London social event of the year,_

_THE LONDON BALL_

_Come bearing this invitation, a dress, and a mask._

_Hope to see you there,_

_-JM_

* * *

I stood in front of the building, hearing the chattering and the classical music inside. The invitation was for Amelia, so, I became her. My red hair was curled into tight ringlets and I was wearing a emerald green ball gown. I flowed out around me, and I couldn't wait to see how it looks when I dance. I watched as people entered the building, wondering where Moriarty was.

My eyes widened when I saw someone leaning against the wall near the entrance, smoking a cigarette, long black coat with brown curly hair.

Sherlock.

He had a mask on like the rest of the guests, but it's easy to tell it's him.

"I didn't think he would really come." A voice whispered into my ear.

"You sent him an invitation?" I questioned.

"Well, I didn't. An old friend did." I turned to face Moriarty, "You look dashing tonight, Amelia."

"You're not too bad yourself." I replied.

He smiled, his dead eyes squinting under his mask and he held out his arm, "Shall we?"

I took his arm and he led me into the building, my eyes on Sherlock as we walked. Sherlock stared back, and his eyes narrowed. I tripped on the steps and Moriarty kept me from falling,

"Got to be careful, darling." He said in an English accent.

* * *

I danced in the middle of the crowd with Moriarty, searching over his shoulder for Sherlock.

"Near the exit." He whispered into my ear.

Moriarty spun my outwards and dipped me, and I looked over at the exit and saw him standing there. Staring at me. I watched him for the rest of the dance, just watching, staring.

Once the dance was over, I left Jim and went over to a waiter and grabbed a glass of white wine.

"May I join the lady in the next dance?"

I turned around and saw Sherlock. I set down my glass,

"Of course."

I wrapped my arm around his and he led me to the dance floor.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked as he put his hands on my waist.

"Isn't the point of the masks to keep your identity a secret?" I smiled.

"It's almost midnight. That's when the masks come off." Sherlock replied, "I will know who you are eventually."

"Why do you need to know who I am?" I questioned.

"I just do."

I broke away, "I need to go."

I got stuck in the crowd when I heard Moriarty clear his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, 30 seconds until the clock strikes twelve and the masks come off. Count down with me. 10, 9, 8, 7-"

Everyone counted down with him and prepared to take off their masks.

"3, 2, 1!"

The masks came off, except for mine. Someone grabbed my arm and I turned to see Moriarty.

"The masks come off, darling."

He ripped my mask off and I heard someone gasp my name,

"Amelia?"

Tears fell down my cheeks and I looked up at Sherlock before running away.

"Amelia!"

I ran out of the building and to the street and grabbed a taxi. In the rear view mirror, I saw Sherlock standing in the road, holding my mask.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.


End file.
